


Protecting the Pack

by The_Freshman



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya is as clever if not more, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, Family, Incest, Jon got humor in this one, Littlefinger is shit, Sansa is clever af, idk wtf more to tag but meh, margaery is alive, winter is here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 19:51:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11387199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Freshman/pseuds/The_Freshman
Summary: North is united under their King in the North--Jon, Sansa plays the game of thrones, Arya is back at Winterfell wearing a different face. Daenerys arrives in Dragonstone, Littlefinger is trying to create a chaos, Margaery is back from the ashes, and winter has finally come.





	1. Sansa I

**Author's Note:**

> The story picks up from the last episode of season 6. I'm still thinking how the story goes. I'm not into incest but the original idea came to me and there is incest, and is essential to the plot. So yeah, you got DanyxJon and SansaxArya...there's the warning. I'm gonna try to water it down though because the main point of this story and the angle i want to show is how far the Stark siblings are willing to go to protect each other.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

It has been a couple of months since they were able the win back Winterfell from the Boltons. They--her and Jon, just like Jon would always correct her. Just like Jon would always correct anyone who conveniently brushes aside her part on the war.

She honestly does not know how to react to that. It is true that had it not been for the knights of the Vale coming to their rescue, they might have lost the battle against Bolton's men. Still though, that battle was won by Jon. She might have been learning how to play the game to favor their family, but in that battle, it was her brother who inspired his men to fight. It was him who ran after Ramsey and led the attack to Winterfell. He deserve to be declared as the King in the North.

Sansa is fine with that. The Northmen are brave, loyal, and honest people, who value strength and conviction. They are tough and would only accept a leader who is brave, strong and knows how to fight and defend them. Jon is all that, and he has the blood of a Stark. It does not hurt them either that Jon looks so much like her father. So Jon is the figure that the Northmen and the wildlings needed to unite them. Sansa is more interested in staying in the shadows.

If there is anything that Sansa learned in King's Landing, it is that battles are won with swords, but war is won with words. Also, plotting is easier when no one's looking your way, and lying is better achieved in the shadows. So she stays in the shadows. The Northmen do not care for the game of thrones, that much is sure. But having Baelish in Winterfell, Sansa wouldn't be very sure. She means to protect her and Jon from anything and anyone at all costs, and Baelish is a disaster waiting to happen.

Sansa had been weary since Littlefinger talked to her in the Godswood trying to turn her against Jon. _He thought he could tempt me with power._ As if she wanted power. For so long, all she wanted to be is back home with her family. All the time she was in King's Landing as Joffrey's betrothed after her father was beheaded all she wished for is to turn back time where life is simplier and she was safe with her family in Winterfell. _Being the queen has lost its appeal a long time ago._ She learned that her family is the most important thing to her, and right now, Jon is the only family she got. There was no way she'll turn her back on her brother.

She knew that Littlefinger is always plotting, and at first she wanted to straight up told him that she will not be part of his plans, but then she realized that she needed to make him believe that she is interested with what he plans to do, so she would know what to do about it. He would never suspect her, he did told her that she is bad at lying. How wrong he is now to think the same. Oh yes, she's learned how to lie very well. She has to, no matter how much she loathes lying. The North may be in peace at the moment, but it would not be long if it is up to Baelish or Cersei, and so she has to be smart about everything. Every single move she and Jon will take might mean their doom.

That is another thing that gives Sansa comfort though she stays behind her brother in the eyes of their subjects. Jon demands his people, their people, to give Sansa the respect that they owe him. She is, after all, their princess. And after they agreed to tell each other everything and to trust each other, Sansa decided that it would be worth it to start sharing her political opinions to Jon, which he gladly accepted. It had been their routine now, that before Jon make his decisions, he would talk to her first and they would analyze the repercussions before making a step to go about the issue. She became Jon's most trusted adviser.

That is how she find herself sitting in the bed of what used to be Arya's room, waiting for Jon to finish talking with his bannermen regarding the Winter. The food supply will not be enough for people of the North as well as the wildlings if the maesters are to be believed that this winter looks like it would last much longer than the previous ones. It was hard to grow anything in the north during summer, much less during winter. There was no way that they could have enough food to feed all of North for the whole year.

Even when they were younger and still in Winterfell, she knows that their food supply came from the Riverlands. It would be impossible to have them deliver goods now though because the Riverlands have suffered a lot during the war of the five kings, and after that. _Not even their supply would be enough to feed all of the Riverlands this winter._ That, and the fact that the Riverlands is in chaos.

Someone murdered Walder Frey and his two sons, and no one knows who did it. All everyone knew about it was that his sons were brutally murdered, mutilated some would say, and that Walder Frey had his throat slit when they found him. What was curious is that, according to some, when Frey men came to move the body of their dead lord, his head had been taken from the body and was never found.

Sansa hated the minimal information about the murders, but she hated the non-information on the murderer more. _Is the killer a friend or a foe?_ She was informed that people had been talking, they think whoever did that to the Freys was avenging her brother, Robb, and her mother. Sansa could understand why people would think that, a slit throat and a missing head. _But what if the killer intentionally did it so Jon and I would be complacent? I will not trust the people's judgment until I know who murdered the Freys. My brother and I could be in danger for all I know._

That is another thing that worries Sansa from time to time. That killer was aware of what happened to Robb and her mother, he was aware of the existence of the Starks. _Being in a killer's radar is a dangerous place to be._ She and Jon had to be extra careful. She would not let anyone  harm this family again. If she has to talk and outsmart every suspicious guest that comes to Winterfell, then she'll do it. If she has to be more practical than that, and just kill them while they sleep, then she'll do it as well.  Anything for this family. _We've suffered enough because we trusted the wrong people. Because_ I _trusted the wrong people. It will not happen again._

"I can hear you thinking from the other room, little sister," Sansa was startled by Jon's deep voice from the doorway. She whipped her head in his direction and found him telling one of his men to guard the door, and then he locked it and faced her with his lips turned up a bit.

"Well, someone has to do the thinking for both of us, dear brother," she teased back. Jon smiled fully now as he sat down at Arya's chair in the corner of the room facing the bed. "Aye, and what were you thinking?"

"Nothing. That incident at the twins with the Freys just crossed my mind again," she could see that Jon was about to say something so she rushed on continuing, "and yes, yes, Jon. I know. I should not give that much thought about it. We've talked about this already, brother. I try not to worry, it just crosses my mind from time to time and when it does, it bothers me."

Jon sighed, "I understand, I do worry as well, Sansa. I just do not want to have you worried about something which might be nothing more than a random incident. There are more pressing problems we have to deal with, little sister. We'll tackle that problem if the threat becomes real."

"When the threat does become real we might not be able to worry about it because we might be dead."

"We will know about the threat before it comes for us. We would know when he or she in the north already. I will protect you."

"I know you will protect me, brother. But how do we know when the danger is in the North already? What? Do you think he would knock on our gates? Did you think he knocked on the twins?"

"Look, Sansa, when--" Jon was cut off by one of the men guarding the door.

"Your grace, I'm sorry for interrupting your time with the princess, but it is an emergency. Someone is at the gates, and she is demanding your presence. Said she brought a gift for you and your sister."

Jon frowned, "Did she mention a name? Was she from a Northern family?"

The guard paled a bit, Sansa didn't think Jon even noticed, she might not have if she had not learn to pay close attention to people while they make conversations. He answered in a lower voice, "She did not say anything, your grace. She just told us that her gift would look good on a stake."

Jon looked stunned, but Sansa was suddenly on her feet pulling Jon out the room and into the hall as she called to the guards, "Let her in, my brother and I will see her in the courtyard."

xxxxxxx

When they arrived in the courtyard, Sansa could see that some of the northern lords, Lady Mormont, and a few wildlings were looking very intrigue at something, or someone. There, being watched closely by Stark soldiers is a figure, shorter than Sansa, probably thinner too, wearing a cloak with its hood up, holding something long wrapped in clothes with her right hand and lazily holding a bag of something on her left.

Sansa walked toward their guest in a slower pace and whispered to Jon, "Brother, let me do the talking."

"Sansa, something does not feel right. Maybe you should head back inside and let me handle this," Jon whispered back. Sansa kept walking as she answered him. "No Jon, let me. But I need you beside me." "Aye," he answered as they reached their guest.

The girl curtsied clumsily though she did not lowered her hood, "Your graces." They acknowledged her with a nod, and then Sansa spoke politely, "My lady, you look like you have traveled far, what brings you here to Winterfell?" She noticed that the girl tensed a bit when she addressed her as a lady. _I need to keep that information for later._

"I did travel far, your grace. I have come here to personally give you this." The girl held up the cloth bag she's been carrying and offered it to Sansa. Sansa hesitantly move her hands to take it but then Jon spoke up, "Tormund, take this lady's gift." Sansa knew they could not afford to affront this mysterious guest, so she immediately smiled brightly at Jon, "Dear brother, it is _fine._ I would like to see the gift now, with your leave."

Sansa then turned to the girl, "If it is alright with you of course, my lady?" The girl nodded. Sansa heard rather than saw Jon sighed, "Alright then, let us see what is inside." Before Sansa could open the bag however, the girls hand was on her wrist. "I suggest you turn the bag over and pour the content on the ground, your grace," she said in a very calm voice which does nothing to calm Sansa's nerves at all. On the contrary, her heart is beating harder, she still managed to smile though and nod her head.

The girl let go of her wrist, only to be replaced by Jon's hand. "Let me, Sansa," he said firmly, using his King tone which broach no argument. Sansa gave him the bag and Jon turned it over at once. Sansa gripped Jon's forearm harder than she ever gripped it before. Jon was clearly shocked, and Sansa is not sure if it is because of her strong grip or because of the thing that fell from the bag.

"Did you like it?" the girl suddenly asked. Jon's frown deepened and then he ordered, "Grab her! Take her to one of the prison cells." Sansa could not even make much sense of what was happening. But she noticed that the girl did not even flinched when the soldiers took her, she even heard a faint chuckle.

Sansa did not know what she expected, truthfully. She suspected that something is wrong even before they went down to the courtyards, and she might have thought a messenger from Cersei came to the North to bring bad news. But not this, at least not yet. But here it is, and here they are, looking at the severed head of Walder Frey on the snow.

"Sansa!" That's Jon, now shaking her mildly, "Are you okay, sister?" She nodded, "Yes, I'm okay. Just…shocked is all."

Jon nodded, "I reckon she does knock on castle gates, little sister." Sansa knew that Jon knows how serious this matter is, however, she could not fault him if he would find a little humor, especially after their conversation which had been interrupted.

"Of all the time you could have used your very small bout of humor, you decided now would be a good time?" she said exasperatedly, but with a small smile. Her brother chuckled a bit and then started ushering her protectively inside telling her that she should stay in her room as much as possible for now and should not be roaming around the castle without a couple of guards, before turning to his soldiers and lords giving orders to be more alert in guarding every part of the castle.

But of course Sansa would not heed his instructions. She needed to know more about this girl who managed to murder the Freys in their own castle and get away with it with no one noticing. No, she is not going to her room to be guarded, she needed to talk to their new prisoner. _No time like the present,_ she thought smiling as she made her way to the prison cells.

 


	2. Arya I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance for typo and grammar errors. I don't have a beta and usually write these chapters around 2am when I'n I'm about to sleep because that's when creativity and motivation strikes me. Writer's eureka is a bitch. Anyway, hope you guys are liking this story.
> 
> Also, if you ever find the same story in FF.net, no worries guys, I am the same person. No stealing happened. XD

 

"Grab her. Take her to one of the prison cells!"

Jon ordered the guards a few beats after that pathetic excuse for a lord's head hit the snow. They were alert enough that they actually grabbed her as soon as her brother gave the order.  _Needle!_ Arya looked up at her brother and sister as the guards grab her things and took her away.

Sansa looked sick, and it seemed that she was trying very hard not to vomit or not to faint, or maybe not to vomit and then faint. Yes, probably the second one. Arya bet Sansa would be hard pressed to live it down if that happens, seeing as she is still very much a lady as Arya remembered her. She fondly chuckled quite a bit at that. Oh, how she missed her sister and her ways! Though, with the few moments she spent in her sister's presence, Arya could tell that a lot has changed about her.  _Not just her._

If she was certain about something even before she decided to went straight to Winterfell after her  _visit_  to the Twins, it was that nothing will be the same as it was when she left home five years ago.  _Or was that six?_  Anyhow, she was right. A lot has change. There were more guards than usual, the castle is burned in some parts, everyone looked less trusting, and though it still felt safe and felt home, there was something in the air that gives her the feeling that everyone in here was antsy about something. As if some danger was hiding in the shadows waiting to pounce.  _Or maybe,_ she thought,  _I was the one who changed so much?_ But Arya knew that cannot be, everything has changed, no matter how small or big.

She was nervous when she talked to guards at the gate, no matter if she was wearing a different face, she fear they might still recognize her. For no matter how many times you could change your face, there was no way to change your eyes. And she has those Stark eyes. The distinct storm gray ones, just like her father's and Jon's, but less kind and a lot ruthless.

The guards didn't seem to notice as they let her in their courtyard to await their king and princess. Arya put up the hood of her cloak, she could not take chances, not yet. The guards may dismiss it, maybe even the lords, but not Jon and Sansa. There was no way to forget the familiar eyes of the father they grew up with, the eyes that you see every time you made eye contact with your brother, or your youngest sister. She will not take that risk. She came here for a reason. A reason she almost forgot about the moment she saw Jon and Sansa for the first time in a long time.

Jon still has that same solemn stern look about him, but instead of making him look like he was sulking as it did when they were younger, this time it makes him look strong and commanding. Just like their father.  _So much like father._  She had half a mind to run to him and tell him who she was, tell him she missed him, and tell him that she always thought about him, but she keep herself from doing so. She contented herself in observing him as subtle as she could.

He looks older, and though that was something that she had expected, it was a different kind of maturity that caught her attention. Maybe it was the battle, maybe it was more than that, but Arya was sure Jon had seen something or been somewhere that gave him this aura of being older than his years. She would find out what happened to him. It would be challenging though. In her journey to Winterfell, she had stopped several times in taverns and inns and was able to gather information regarding what happened to Winterfell.

People like to talk about something while getting drunk, and do they talk a lot. Arya learned a lot about what happened during the battle led by her brother to reclaim Winterfell, things that happened before that. About Rickon, which felt like a stab in her heart. How brave Jon was, how he was able to gain the respect of the Wildlings enough to fight for him, how he was definitely the King in the North. But nothing much about his time in the watch, or what happened before that.  _She has to know more._

She turned her focus on her sister who was walking slowly beside Jon, and speaking very silently with him. Sansa has always been pretty when they were younger, but Arya was still shocked at just how beautiful she is now. She looks so much like their mother.  _More beautiful than mother_. Again, she wanted so much to run and give Sansa a hug. She was her sister, she was learning to fight, she should've went to Sansa and saved her. She heard all about what she went through in King's Landing through the hound.  _It's my fault, I left her to those Lannisters!_  She also heard some soldiers in the pub talking about her sister being Alayne Stone. She was confused about that, but she'll find out more once at Winterfell.

She snapped out of it and returned her focus on her sister which was now just a few feet away from her. Arya do not She still carries herself like a perfect lady, but there was something different in her now. Something that wasn't there when they were younger. She couldn't pin point what it was until Sansa spoke to her.

Instead of a modest, unsure girl hiding behind her courtesies, she can see a young woman with just enough show of confidence and strength to be taken seriously, but not to be thought of as a threat _. Sansa has become very smart and very dangerous._ Arya never would have noticed Sansa playing her and trying to manipulate the situation had she not trained with the faceless men and could detect lies and insincerity easily.

She smiled, who would've thought? My dear sister has learned a lot, she got fire in her eyes and defiance in her stance.  _Something good came out from everything she went through, at least._  Arya cursed herself inwardly for thinking that way.  _No! I would gladly take that naïve, hopeful, Sansa who believed in songs and knights and princes if that means she didn't have to endure any of the things that the gods let her suffer alone!_  And she would, to be honest, she would willingly have that Sansa over this Sansa if it meant her sister didn't have to experience all the pain she did.

Yes, Arya knew about it. Because as opposed to people not talking about what Jon went through, and she isn't sure if she was thankful or hated them for it, the people on taverns and inns were not shy to talk about what Sansa had been through. How she was married off to that bastard Bolton, which they assumed that she was forced or tricked to it because there was no way someone who knew him would willingly marry him. How some whores said that according to the soldiers they bedded, the princess Sansa was imprisoned in her chambers and was raped and beaten by that monster every night. They talked about how he liked to torture people by flaying them, some even whispered about how they think he used to flay Sansa as well.

Arya remembered being sick to her stomach upon hearing these, abruptly standing up and leaving a few coins at the table. She would run until she can't anymore and then she would kneel on the snow and sob.  _Not Sansa. Sweet, gentle, all-smiles Sansa, who sews perfectly and acts like a lady in any given situation. Except during father's execution when she screamed and cried for them to stop it. That was definitely not an action befitting a lady._  She would then curse the gods because why? There were other ladies out there, why Sansa? She's been through a lot in King's Landing, now she had to suffer this in the North? In Winterfell even? Are the gods truly mocking us?

Arya was snapped out of her contemplation when she was shoved non-too-gently in one of the prisons. She glared at the Knight of the Vale who just smirked at her before closing the cell door and locking it. It was roomy, the walls are concrete, and the door is like a normal door, except it was metal and has a small rectangular hole which serves as a window. She assumed that it was useful so the guards won't have to open the door when she wanted to talk to them or vice versa _. Well…_  She pulled down the metal lid over the window _, …I am not in the mood to talk at the moment._

She let herself adjust to her surroundings. It does not look like a prison cell at all. It is more like a small room, with the benefit of privacy and all. It was dark but not very much so, and she could still make out a desk and a chair at one corner of the room, a cot in another corner, and a couple of pails in the corner farthest from the bed. Not that it mattered how dark it is, she was well-acquainted with it after all. Arya sighed, decided to lie down and thought her plan through.

She originally planned to return to Winterfell and bring the head of Walder Frey to the Boltons as a warning before she kills them one by one. After all, they were another traitor to the Red Wedding. However, her plan changed when she heard about all the talks of the people. Winterfell is back to her brother and sister. The Direwolf flags are waving proudly again around the North. She almost decided to just return to King's Landing for the mountain and Cersei so she could finish of her list, but she wanted to know how they are faring. That, and she longed for home, for her family.

The new plan is to go see them as someone else and not Arya. They still have enemies, and she learned during her time as a cup bearer for Tywin Lannister that traitors are made and not born. So she would go to Winterfell, observe, and find out who from their allies might be potential traitors when the time comes that an opportunity to gain more will be presented to them. With Cersei Lannister as queen, she does not doubt that Jon and Sansa will have to be more careful. She would need to see how Jon rules and how Sansa handles the castle. She needed to make sure they will not be swayed by anyone to turn against each other.

The idea of gifting her siblings Frey's head came later on. She was a day away from Winterfell when she decided that she does not want to be a servant, nor a soldier. She already know how her brother and her sister acts around them. She needs to be someone unpredictable. Someone they would not care to offend or be angry with. She needed to be someone they would consider as neutral or unpredictable so they would be confused how to react and would just give in to honesty.

She did not anticipate however, the extent of the changes she would see in her siblings. How Jon was now more forthcoming with his commands but still reserved with his thoughts, and how Sansa has grown smarter in her actions and conversations. Those changes would make it more difficult to see through their masks and break their walls of courtly manners. But Arya likes challenges, if anything, she just needs time to think how she would go about it. Maybe after a nap ideas on how she would handle her siblings would be of abundance.

She was drifting to sleep when several knocks on her metal door was made. Arya groaned, she does not want to enter into a conversation yet. She was sure the guards talking to her would report everything to Jon or Sansa. Definitely Sansa, if she was as smart as Arya thinks she is, the she would definitely be wanting reports. She needed to make this as short as possible since she still haven't figured out how she would handle her siblings. All she knows is that she has to handle them very carefully and diverse from each other. She sat up on the bed and try to focus.

Three more knocks and she finally decided to answer but she did not open the small window, "Yes?"

"I'd like to talk to you my lady. If that is alright?"  _Shit. Sansa of all people!_  Arya groaned silently, she knows she have to be careful. Her sister is not someone she should underestimate. She needed to decide on a facade she would use for Sansa.

"You call me my lady, your grace, but you put me in a prison," she answered calmly. It's not enough though, she needed to put Sansa on edge. Maybe later.

She heard Sansa sighed, "I'm so sorry, my lady. It was not my wish that you be put here. I'm sure my brother was just shocked as well. I would talk to him about this and try to reason with him, worry not."

 _Gods, she's good at this._  She sounds really sincere and innocent, she even wants to downplay her influence on Jon. It is obvious though with the way Jon paid attention when Sansa spoke to him earlier in the courtyard while walking towards her. She was able to read her lips.  _Brother, let me do the talking._  Jon has absolute trust in her judgement. Arya would bet needle that they were ruling together, but making it seem that it was only Jon who does.  _How clever._  Definitely Sansa's idea.

"Thank you, your grace." She answered shortly. She heard her sister fidget before speaking to her again.

"My lady, are you of the North?"

"Does it matter, your grace?"

"Well…no, not really. It's just that…umm…" Sansa paused and exhaled deeply, "It's just, if you are not of the North, then you do not really needed to address me as your grace." Arya listened carefully, and she knows that Sansa wasn't exactly feeling awkward or timid at all. Her sister has become a good actress. Sansa is fishing for information, it seems.

"Nonsense, your grace. I am in your lands and therefore should afford you the respect that was expected from your people." Arya is sticking to her calm detached tone. Not amicable, but not impolite either.

"It truly is fine, my lady. Several of the people we have with us here at Winterfell are free folks, and they do not kneel to me and my brother. They just call us by our names."

"Really?" That, Arya genuinely didn't know. She knew of the free folk in Winterfell, but she thought they kneel to her siblings as well. Jon and Sansa are proving to be really good rulers or really bad ones.

"Yes, my lady. So we would not take it against you if you do not address us as your king and princess. If you are somewhere from the East or from the South, we would totally understand."

Arya smiled, her sister is definitely good. Wanting to know where she is from as subtle as possible. Her courtesy had been perfect, maybe it is time to ruffle Sansa's armor a little.

"Worry not, your grace, I am not under anyone's rule but my own, and I would gladly kneel to you and your brother."

"Well, then, thank you, my lady." Sansa, always so polite. Arya figured she would like to see her sister a bit out of sorts.

"Of course, my princess. If I could kill for you, then I certainly could kneel to you." Arya answered her with a bit of malice on her tone. There was silence. Then Arya heard her sister sigh again.

"About that. You said you are not under anyone's rule, so why did you do it? Why kill Walder Frey for, I assume, the Red Wedding?" Now that is a sincere question. Arya knows this one is definitely something that Sansa wanted to know. Of course, Arya would not reveal the truth. She also would not give Sansa an answer, if only to piss her off.

Arya yawned and was back to her earlier tone, "I'm sorry, your grace, it seems that I need to rest for a while."

Sansa abruptly responded with a bit of annoyance, "My lady, you say that you will kneel to me, that is equal to you accepting me as your princess, is it not? As your princess, I demand that you answer my question truthfully."

"And you said that you would understand my qualms in being under your rule, and yet you are forcing me to give information that I hold dear, through a command, your grace."

She could totally imagined how Sansa must have looked on the other side of the door. She probably look affronted. Arya smiled when she heard Sansa shift after a few seconds.

"I'm sorry, my lady. I was just truly curious. Forgive me for forgetting my place." Arya smirked, Sansa was not sorry at all.

"There is nothing to forgive, your grace."

"I can see that you do not trust easy, my lady, but may I at least know your name?"

Arya knew that this would make Sansa hate her or love her as a prisoner, but she would deal with it because she needed to keep Sansa's interest. Her sister might give up her curiosity after their talk today, and Arya wasn't having it.

"My name is Lady, your grace," she chuckled for effect, "Although my mother would swear I act more like a savage wolf than a proper lady."

"What?"  _Sansa's feathers were ruffled, alright._  However, Arya knew she needs to push her sister a bit more. An annoyed Sansa is far more interesting than the polite Sansa.

"I was kidding, your grace. I heard the story about your wolf, Lady. I mean no offense, however."

"You mean no offense? Well, my lady, I am quite offended." She could tell Sansa is very close to snapping. She can't have that either, she only needs her on the edge.

"Forgive me, your grace. I assumed incorrectly." Her asking for forgiveness was sincere, because she hated to hear that tinged of pain lacing her sister's last response.

"Forget it." Arya heard Sansa turn around and make a couple of steps away from her cell.

"Your grace," she called. She heard the steps stop. "What is it, my lady?"

Arya opened the lid so she could see Sansa, it was dark enough that her sister would not notice the color of her eyes. She saw that Sansa turned around to face her, so she was smirking when she answered, "Alayne, your grace. Call me Alayne."

She almost burst out laughing when she saw Sansa's reaction, she certainly let annoyance show in her response though. "You do not want to tell me your name, fine."

"Too easy to rile you up, your grace."

"Stop. Just, stop," Sansa said indignantly as she walk away from Arya's cell.

Arya laughed, "Anything for you, my dear princess!" She called out. She heard Sansa's huff even as she turned on the corridor, and she laugh louder.

Oh how she loved annoying Sansa. They were older now, but still, it gives her quite satisfaction in successfully riling her sister.  _She's so responsive to my baits._  Arya was smiling as she lie down on the cot. She never felt so happy in a long time.  _I definitely missed making Sansa forget about her ladylike manners!_

For a few more moments, Arya felt at home before she drifted off to sleep and dreams of hunts and wolves.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the story is a bit slow, but I'm still trying to reintroduce the characters since I think they are quite ooc. Hopefully it will pick up after a few more chapters. Thank you for reading. (:


	3. Sansa II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite longer than the first two. I hope you won't find this boring though. Again, sorry for the typos and errors you'll find. Thank you for the kudos and comments guys! Gives me life (;

Sansa knows she was walking too fast and too brisk for a proper lady, but she does not care. She was pissed. Everyone in the castle might have known it too for they move out of her way upon seeing the look on her face. She must look a fright. She hated that she could not even bring herself to put on a polite mask and smile, or control her breathing and her speed. No, she was way too pissed for that.

She turned to another corridor and proceed to go to Jon's study, where she knew she would find him. She barged on the room and proceed to walk back and forth in front of Jon, who she was aware was watching her with confusion.

"Alright, Sansa. Stop, will you? You're making my head hurt." She stop, "What is wrong, sister? You look like you wanted to start a war."

"THAT…that…" she stopped because she doesn't know how to call her, Jon frowned at her, "That…?"

"That GIRL!" she said finally.

"What girl?"

"The one who killed the Freys, who else!"

Sansa noticed Jon looked panic, "What about her? Wait, did you see her? I told you Sansa, stay in your room for now! I'll have you guarded all the time, even as you wander around the castle."

"Jon…" She was about to protest that she didn't need to be guarded.

"Don't. Did you went to her?"

"Well, we do not know anything about her. I went to get information."

"Sansa, if she truly is the one who murdered the Freys then she is dangerous!"

"She was locked in a cell. She couldn't possibly escape. I just talked to her."

"To get information? You risked your life to get information. And did you get the information you need?"

"That's the point, I didn't!" She was frustrated, to say the least. She didn't get anything useful from the girl who refuse to even say her name. "She was annoying, Jon! Gods, she wouldn't even tell me her name!"

Jon chuckled as she asked her, "What could she have possibly done to piss you off like this?"

She glared at him, how dare he laugh at her misery? "For your information, that girl was infuriating! She was polite one second, and then offensive the next. She was unstable!"

"Do you think she really is the one to do it?"

"Yes! Oh gods, yes. That, if nothing else, is the only thing I found out."

"How did you know?"

"Her breathing never change even when we talked about what happened at the twins. She never fidget, as well. I was listening carefully. Also, she did not flinched when Frey's head fell out of the bag."

"Did you ask her why she did it?"

She rolled her eyes before answering her brother, "Yes, I did. And she calmly told me, though in different terms, that I have no business in knowing the reasons behind it. Can you believe the nerve of that girl?!"

"I can, in fact," Jon answered smiling, "No one was able to anger you enough to make you barge in here, or be unable to control your voice and your facial expression."

She throw him another glare. Jon spoke again though, "So what do you think we should do about her?"

"Oh I don't know, you could do to her whatever you want. Let her rot in that cell for all I care!"

Sansa could see her brother laughing now, though he is trying very hard to hold it in. "You find this amusing, dear brother? Maybe you should talk to her yourself, let's see how amused you are after!"

With that she left his study to find something else to divert her frustration. Maybe she would take Tormund's offer to train her with the bow and arrow.

xxxxx

Sansa did not go to Tormund, after all, as much as she wanted to. It would not be beneficial for her and Jon if people see her starting to get interested in fighting, less they start talking. That would be counter-productive to the image she and Jon had been trying to forge. Proper princess being protected by her king brother. _I cannot appear to be willful or too determined or too strong._ She needs everyone to underestimate her, it was easier to play people in the shadows. Hence, she decided to go to the library.

Sansa had never seen a white walker before but if her brother said that they are real, then they are real. Also, winter has come, and with it the feeling of dread and  eeriness around the castle which does not seem to subside. She never felt that around Winterfell before, not even when she was married to Ramsey. She was scared then, but for a reason, and not as much as this. The fear and feeling of despair seem to crawl in every corner and if you let it, would latched on you until they were deep enough in your bones. She dismissed those dark thoughts.

That is why she decided to go here, so she could help Jon. Sansa knows that she could not fight alongside her brother and his men, but she could learn as much as she could about those army of dead and how to defeat them. _This is the least that I could do._ She understands that this Ice King that Jon was trying to stop is a bigger threat than Cersei, so she was trying her best to support her brother. However, the North is still part of the realm and just because they know of this threat does not mean that the threat of the other kingdoms is not to be taken care of, so they decided to trust each other.

She remembered when Jon approached her to talk about it. It was in the Godswood, Sansa was sitting under the weirwood tree and looking at the frozen lake. She heard someone walking towards her, she was annoyed for a moment thinking it was Littlefinger again. However when the footsteps stop and she heard the unmistakable padding sounds of a wolf, she smiled and waited for her brother to reach her. When he didn't, she spoke, "What is it you need, Jon?"

"I'm sorry, I do not mean to disrupt your praying. We could talk in the cas--"

"I was not praying," she said cutting him off.

"You are…not? Then what are you doing here? It is almost dark Sansa." Sansa smiled fondly at Jon. Her brother, always looking out for her. How could she ever hate him when they were younger? She has such a poor record of judging character, unlike Arya. _Oh, Arya!_ That dimmed her smile.

"Do not worry, brother, I may not have been in here as much as you and Arya, I do know my way back to the castle," she said with a bit of humor. Jon smiled sadly as he sat down beside her. She shouldn't have brought up her Arya.

"I know that you do, sister, but I still do worry. The winds are harsher, and the snow is thicker now."

"Thank you, Jon. I will try not to worry you too much in the future."

Her brother chuckled, "I doubt that, but we'll see."

Sansa let herself smile widely, and then seriously, "No I do not pray anymore."

Jon started at that, he was about to say something but then he relaxed, "I forgot, you favor the seven."

She chuckled darkly, "You misunderstand me, brother. I do not pray anymore. Not to the old gods, not to the seven."

"But why?"

"The gods, if they are even real, do not listen to us anyway. They did nothing but mock me, us, our family. We are good people Jon, not perfect, but good. And yet…"

"Sansa, we are back at Winterfell, the gods seem to listen to us somehow, after all." Jon tried to smile.

She was not having it though, "This is our home. It should not have been taken away from us in the first place. I have seen worse people, Jon. And they are even rewarded. If there are gods, then they are unfair, and maybe they bask in good people suffering."

Jon sighed, "I will not ask you to change what you believe Sansa, your belief is yours, sister. You have suffered a lot, even the gods cannot fault you."

Sansa felt relieved, she did not know that Jon's opinion matter much to her. But they promised no more lies, so she will not lie even with these trivial things.

"I believe you did not come here to talk about the gods, brother?"

"No, I did not. Sansa, you know about the threat in the North, I told you about it before."

"Yes, I know about it. But Jon, I do not know how I can help with that. I don't know how to fight."

"And even if you do, I will not let you fight. I need to ask of you something."

"Anything, brother."

"I don't know how you convinced the Knights of the Vale to come to our aid, but I know you have something to do with it. Not anyone can ask an army as big as that, and not even our bannerman at that, to come and risk their lives so we could get back our home."

Sansa tensed a bit, "I learned a lot in King's Landing and the Vale. People and experience taught me so many devious things, Jon. You can judge me, but will not think twice to use them if that means it will keep us alive."

"I will never judge you, Sansa. You are my sister, my blood, if there is anyone I will trust most, it is you. Especially now, we gained allies, but we gained enemies as well. This is what I want to speak to you about."

"What? Trusting each other? I do not trust anyone in this castle as much as I trust you."

"Thank you. I want to ask of you something. I am not good at politics, Sansa. I was never one to play mind games and manipulation. But I understand that is something we cannot avoid in court or council. No matter if it is the North or the South. Power is power, and no one is exempt from betrayal. Bolton proved that enough."

"Indeed."

"And now, no matter how we declare the North's independence, we have no match if the whole of the South comes marching here to make us kneel."

Sansa nodded for she knows that to be true, "What can I help you with, Jon?"

"We need to make alliances, Sansa. Alliances in the South, while placating the lords of the North at the same time."

"You want me to help you make alliances?"

"Yes. Who better to do it, than someone who knows how it works? Let us rule together. You are my sister, a true born Stark. They will follow you and listen to you. I cannot do it on my own, Sansa. Not with threat beyond the wall."

Sansa contemplated Jon's words, "Tell me about the threat."

"They are coming, Sansa. They are bringing winter with them and an army of dead. No one is safe, we will all die less we were able to defeat them. I am trying to find ways on how to. Swords do nothing to them, except those forged with Valyrian steel. And, according to Sam, dragon glass."

Sansa shivered, "How many are they?"

"Thousands. And every time one of us falls dead, he will rise as one of them."

"They are real."

"Very real. I need your help. I know how to draw a sword and fight, I have experience how to handle a castle during my stay at the wall, but this is different. This is Winterfell, and I have to deal with thousands of soldiers, instead of hundreds. I have to think of the small folks, I need to keep my bannermen happy less they betray me. I need to learn to rule like a lord if not a king, I need to make political decisions. Sansa, I'm not made for this. I need you to take over for me. Let us share powers and authority."

"And you think our bannermen will be happy with me ruling with you?"

"Yes."

"No, brother. They will not."

"They have no choice! You are a Stark, you are my sister. They will not question me. If any, you deserve this more than I do."

"They will not see it that way, brother. They follow you because you are strong, and honorable, and can fight for them. It is what the Northmen values. I am nothing like that. They will not follow me."

"Sansa, we need to try at least. I trusting you with the fact that I am not fit for this. I let them declare me as king so they would follow me to the wall. I need your help, sister."

"And I will give you my help, Jon. You are my brother. It's just you and me now, I'll do anything for you. But we are doing it differently."

"I'm listening. We both know you have the mind for it. I trust you."

"You will rule, you will be a good king. You will choose people to include in your small council, those you trust the most. You will deal with politics, and you will be good at it."

"Sansa…there's no time for me to learn all that."

"You do not need to learn."

"Sister, I do not understand…"

"I will be ruling with you. But no one must know."

"W-Why?"

"The loyalty of everyone must be upon you, brother. If they know how much influence I have on you, if anyone found out the you seek and value my opinion, then they might doubt you. I have stayed far too long in the South, and I do not even look like a Stark. They are bound to doubt me."

"I understand. Anything more?"

"We trust each other, I know. But we have to absolutely put our trust in each other, if this is to work, Jon. If there are issues, you tell me. Every single thing. Everything that happens in the small council. All your doubts, your opinions, even those you think are of no consequence. I will do you the same courtesy…"

Jon nodded, so she continued, "I will tell you what to do. We will talk about everything, I will give you my opinion, you will give me yours, we will tackle the problems together. I will know that you value my words, my opinions, and my judgment, but you will not show it to anyone.

"You will be a proper king, brother. You will hear what everyone have to say, you will heed the advice of your small council but you will decide and think about important issues _on your own_ before you give them your decision. Meaning, we will talk about them, and try to decide together. But if you are confident enough to decide it, then you could do so. I know your heart is in the right place, and you are good with making decisions, brother, and I will trust your judgment."

"You flatter me, Sansa. What happened with the battle, I did not listen to you. We almost lost."

"Let us forget about it, Jon. I understand how hard it is, because you thought there was a chance to save Rickon."

"And he was your brother too, but you were able to think clearly. I put my soldiers' lives at stake, because I did not listen to you when you said that Rickon was as good as dead already. You would make a very good ruler, sister."

"Let it go, Jon. You are not the first leader to make mistake because they let their emotion get it the way."

"Robb…"

"Yes, and I will not let you make the mistake that Robb did, Jon. I will try my best to make you see reason time and again. You will not fall, you will not be betrayed. I will not let anyone get even close to doing so. If I have to lie, manipulate, and be dishonorable, I will. If it will protect us, brother, I will do it. Anything for family."

"I don't doubt it, Sansa. You must know, I will do anything to protect you as well."

She nodded, "You will be a just king, and I will be the king's brother. The king does not want me involved too much in politics, but he lets me do what I want around the castle. The king is a protective brother, and will be offended if his sister is offended."

Jon laughed at that, "You know that is true. I love you so much, sister, everyone knows that. I do not even have to act."

Sansa smiled, "And I love you. But let me put emphasis on the extent of your protectiveness and not trying to involved me. You would make sure that you treat me younger than my age, and you would brush it off as a big brother would always see her younger sister as a kid that he needs to protect."

"Why? To make you appear weak?"

"Not weak, Jon, but a child. A child who is not a threat. That and I supposed, suitors would think twice, if they know their king might be offended if they even try and ask for my hand. You know, overprotective brother card. That way, we'll have less problems in our hands. No suspicious lords thinking I am a threat to your reign, and no annoying suitors. I am not ready to be married. You still need me."

Jon was looking at her thoughtfully, "That was…that was very clever. And you should know Sansa that I never meant to marry you off anyway. Until you wanted to. And I will always need you, your presence. You're all I have left now."

"We are all we have left, brother."

"I will be very occupied with how to defeat the walkers, and you will be dealing with politics."

"I supposed, yeah." She answered him teasingly. He just smiled.

"Aye. So we are doing this. We will be ruling alongside each other, me on the front and you on the shadows."

"Yes, yes we are, brother."

"Who would've thought?"

Sansa laughed, "Certainly not mother."

Sansa was startled from her reverie by a voice she was not very fond of, "My lady, I hope I'm not interrupting your reading. I haven't been able to talk to you alone for quite some time."

"Lord Baelish," she greeted as she close the book she was reading and stand up from her seat. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

"I've heard some interesting rumors, my lady." Sansa waited for him to continue but it seems like he was waiting for a response or a reaction from her. She put on a nonchalant expression though she was very much interested to know about these 'rumors' he was talking about.

"What of these rumors?"

"Well, rumor has it that a certain Targaryen has arrived on Dragonstone," he waited again for her reaction, but she stifled her gasp and instead just inclined her head, "And she brought with her tens and thousands of Dothraki and Unsullied soldiers."

"Dragonstone is quite far from Winterfell, my lord. Why should this be of interest to me?" Talks of Daenerys Targaryen started from when she was still at the capital, but she did not pay it any mind before because Daenerys was in Essos still, and she was not sure if all she heard was true , anyway. But now, it seems like she will be fighting Cersei for the crown. _I hope she wins, too. For father, for our family…for Margaery._

"So is Essos from Westeros my lady, and yet she's here."

"She is in Dragonstone. It is the ancestral palace of the Targaryens," she argued, trying to gauge what it is he truly wants.

"Daenerys Targaryen came back for the throne which belonged to her family. In her mind, in that iron throne is her rightful place. Dragonstone is just a stop, King's Landing is her destination. She _will_  fight Cersei for the throne."

"Again, my lord, why should this interest me? I have told you before, I have no interest in the iron throne. Neither does my brother." Of course Sansa knew why this should interest her. If this dragon queen won the throne, will she let the North have their liberty? Will she accept ruling over six instead of seven kingdoms? _She has to. The North suffered enough, but we will fight if need be, though we cannot win against her, if it comes to it._

"She has the support of Dorne and the Reach. She will win against Cersei when she decided to start her conquering. And though, you and your brother have no interest on the throne, you have the blood of the Starks. She is a _Targaryen._ A Targaryen seeking revenge on people who wronged her family."

Sansa knows this. There is a big possibility that she will turn her sights and army to the North? They are Starks after all, and the dragons and the wolves do not have an amicable history. She just hopes that this Targaryen isn't as mad as they come so she and Jon will be able to make a truce with her. But she still have to know what Baelish wants, so she pretend to be terrified and clueless.

"You're right. That couldn't happen! The North just came from a battle, we won't win against her with Dorne and Reach behind her."

"That's right, my lady," he said, with that irritating smirk gracing his face.

"What do you suggest we do then?"

"I think the best thing to do right now is make alliance with Daenerys Targaryen."

Sansa frowned, "What made you think that would work? You just said, we are Starks. You think she would even bother listening to what we have to say before she ask one of her Dothrakis to slit our throats? I think not. She have no need of us, therefore we cannot offer an alliance."

He kept smirking, "The Northerners are fierce in battle and are known to be very loyal. The North is the largest of all the seven kingdoms. Your brother is the King in the North. If you promise to swear fealty--"

"No! The Northmen fought for Northern freedom. We will not betray our bannermen and swear fealty to this--this queen."

"My lady--"

"No. My brother's bannermen will not acquiesce to this. Neither would Jon!"

"I would never be sure about that."

She looked abruptly at him, "What do you mean?"

"Your bannermen trust your brother and his judgement."

"My brother will not be persuaded to make an alliance in exchange for swearing fealty to Daenerys Targaryen!"

"He will."

"He won't."

"She has dragons. Three full-grown dragons."

Sansa was not able to stop her gasp this time, then pursed her lips. _Fucking Baelish! Of course her brother would want an alliance with this queen. Dragons! Dragons might be able to defeat the walkers_.

"I'll talk to Jon. I'll ask him to let me talk to this dragon queen."

"No. You must persuade him to be the one to talk to her and should be accompanied with his hand."

Sansa narrowed her eyes at him. Now we're getting to what he truly wanted from this conversation. "Why?"

"Sansa, it is imperative that he and his hand be the ones to travel to Dragonstone, and you to remain here," he smiled at her, "When the King is gone with the hand, the authority will reside on you. With your _half-brother_ gone, you will be the Stark in Winterfell. It would be your time to prove to the banners that you are capable of holding the castle, and remind them that you are the true-born Stark in this castle."

 _So this is what you want, for me to undermine my brother for you. You want me to send my brother to a possible death on the hands of a Targaryen. I'm not gonna let that happen._ Sansa smirked and Littlefinger thought he got to her just like before.

"I'll talk to him tonight, Lord Baelish. Thank you."

He bowed to her and made his way toward the door, but then he stopped and turn around, "By the way, my lady, it may interest you to know that the Lannister imp is alive, and serving as hand of the dragon queen." With that he walked out of the library.

Sansa was left with his words ringing in her head... _The Lannister imp is alive… Lannister Imp… Alive… Tyrion… Tyrion is alive… and hand to Daenerys Targaryen!_ If Tyrion is hand to this queen, she couldn't be that bad, and there might be a chance to talk and reason with her.  A contemplative smile slowly made it to her face. _Oh Baelish, you have no idea what you have just given me._

She stood up and made her way to their--her and Jon's--study. She has a letter to write.

xxxxxxxxxx

Sansa was walking from the rookery to the courtyard to find Jon and talk to him about Baelish's plans when she heard a commotion which seem to be coming from the hall. She decided to check on it before finding her brother, so she made her way toward the hall. She found the Lords and Lady Mormont as well as the soldiers in there. In front is Jon who looks like he was on the verge of gutting someone. She walked briskly toward him to stop him from doing something he would regret later.

"What's going on here?" Sansa bristled as she saw the commotion on the hall. There was that girl being dragged and forced to kneel in front of an enraged Jon. Their bannermen and a number of soldiers and wildlings started gathering in the halls.

"Where did you get this?!" Jon bellowed at the girl as though he had not heard Sansa's question. She decided to walk toward her brother to calm him down. It is not wise to show this many people what makes him lose his temper like this. _What angers you, affects you._

"Brother, what is going on?" She asked as she grab his left arm. Jon startled a bit, as he directed his right hand to the girl.  It was then that Sansa noticed that he was holding a very thin sword.

"She have this in her possession!" Jon answered her, still enraged, as if that explains anything.

"And?"

Jon whipped his head to look at her, and she saw the pained expression hidden under the anger in his eyes. "This," he said waving the sword somehow, "belongs to Arya."

Sansa was shocked, she looked at the sword properly. She wouldn't recognized it specifically, but she hasn't seen any sword like that except for Arya's. The topic of her sister always pains her, but still, damage control.

"Jon, maybe it just looks like Arya's sword?"

"No. I'm the one who gifted her the sword, before we left Winterfell. This is Arya's." Jon answered solemnly, as if in a trance. Now, Sansa is in equal parts panicked and angry. She walked closer to the kneeling girl whose expression is just passive, just observing them. That angered her more.

"How did you come by my sister's sword, my lady?" Sansa asked in a low voice. She felt overwhelming fear when the realization that this girl might have actually killed her sister.

The girl's head was down but she still saw her smile, "A beautiful sword, ain't it, your grace? I like beautiful things."

Sansa tried to appear calm even with her blood boiling. "Do be careful for with your next words, my lady. I've killed before, I'm not oppose to doing it again. The time for japing is over," she stated coldly. She thought she even felt Jon shiver behind her.

The girl straightened her back and looked directly at Sansa before speaking, "Arya Stark. She wasn't very good with a sword, was she? I killed her, and took that sword for myself."

Sansa recognizes a feeling of familiarity with the girl, but she couldn't place it. Then she mentioned her sister and talked about her…talked about killing her. And Sansa tried all she could to not show the extent of anguish and pain she felt hearing those words. _Arya was brave, and she wasn't that bad with a sword! How dare this girl talk about her sister that way?! How dare she kill Arya?!_

She looked at the girl, her expression looks bored but Sansa knew better. The girl was pursing her lips as if waiting for a punishment, but it's more than that. That is someone waiting for the conversation to be over. _Give you your punishment and be over with it?_

In the corner of her eyes, Sansa saw Jon unsheathing hi sword, ready to actually kill the girl. "Stop!" she screamed. Jon looked at her incredulously.

"She killed Arya!" Jon's voice is loud and full of anger that she flinched from it. But he put down his sword while he wait for her answer. She looked at the girl again and answered calmly, "She's lying."

That's how Sansa saw it, the shock on the girl's face as she looked up at Sansa. It was soon gone though, replaced with mirth. The girl laughed. "Oh I did, your grace."

Jon still looked angry but he's calmed down now though his face betray a bit of confusion.

"Sansa…" he said as he approached her. He whispered to her "Are you sure about this?" Sansa just nod to him and gave him a look asking him again to trust her, so he did with a bit hesitance. To the crowd it looked like he reprimanded her and told her what to do. _Just as well._

Sansa straightened and turned to the girl again. She is not going to let it go, if this is the only way she'll be able to find Arya. "No you didn't. I don't know how you come by my sister's sword, but you didn't kill her."

The girl's eyes narrowed, "I fought her. You think that was a lie too?"

"No. You are not lying this time. You did fought her, you didn't kill her though. And if I have to guess, you know where she is."

The girl smirked but Sansa could hear irritation in her tone, "Believe whatever you want, princess."

Sansa was about to say something more but it was then that Jon tugged her arm to stop her. "Take the prisoner back to her cell," he asked the guards. I look at him trying to convey that I needed to talk to him at once, he sighed and spoke loudly, "I'm sorry for losing my temper my lords, my ladies. If you will excuse us, my sister and I needed to talk."

xxxxxxx

"Are you sure she knows where Arya is?" Jon asked her again. They have been talking for a while now. First she told him about what Baelish came to talk to her in the library and about Tyrion, and when they decided on the steps to take regarding that…development, the conversation went to the prisoner.

"I think she might know something. She's met Arya, that's for certain."

"We need to talk to her, we need to find our sister."

"She wouldn't tell us."

"Sansa we have to do what we can. Torture her or something…"

"Jon! Do you hear yourself?"

"What?! If this is the way to find Arya, I am not oppose to doing it."

"She will not bend to torture. She didn't even flinch when you asked to take her to prison, or earlier when you draw your sword. She is not scared of being hurt or dying! We will be wasting our time…"

"What do you want us to do then? She knows where Arya is!"

"She's seen Arya somewhere, we are not sure if she knows where she is now. Jon, the best thing to do is wait and know more about her. We don't know her or her motivations."

"You are right, of course. I'm just…it's Arya, Sansa. I just want us to all be here in Winterfell and safe."

"I know, brother. I want Arya here too, more than you know."

Right then, a knock on the door caught their attention. Jon invited Maester Elwyn inside before closing the door.

"What is it, maester?" Sansa asked. If there was anyone who even had an inkling on her and Jon's way of ruling, it is Maester Elwyn, but he never confronted any of them about it, much less pointed it out to anyone.

"Your grace, a raven has come for any Stark in Winterfell." He said before handing the piece of paper to Jon. "If you need to send a raven back, I will see to it."

Sansa nodded in response, as she studied Maester Elwyn. He looked more anxious than usual. "Are you alright maester?" The maester just nodded his head. _It has something to do with the letter._ Sansa signaled Jon to open the letter. He looked a bit apprehensive, because of the maester's presence.

Sansa sighed, "It's fine, Jon. Maester Elwyn seem to know more than he lets on," she nodded to the maester who just bowed his head, "and I'm sure that is the case with the letter and who sent it as well." This time the maester and her brother both looked at her. Sansa just shrugged.

Jon opened the small roll of paper and read aloud, "To any wolf of Winterfell. I have known one of yours, trusting but very brave. Though I have no fur on me, I am willing to join the pack. I have sent words to my roots and my thorns will soon grow back." Jon frowned, "There's no signature in here, just a picture of a rose."

Sansa closed her eyes before she whispered, "Margaery."


	4. Margaery I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short chapter, more like a sub-chapter actually, only to introduce the rose in this fic. There might be several short chapters like this in the future though.
> 
> Also, I know I've been uploading frequently, but guys don't be spoiled. Classes starts on August, hopefully I have written enough advance chapters until then. Law school is a jealous mistress, so I can't promise fast updates by then.

She's running. She kept running though her feet hurt and her lungs felt like they are going to explode. When she turns her head to look where she came from she could only see green. Not that she could see properly with her eyes watering because of dust, and smoke. _And heat._ Too much heat, she felt like she was burning. She run faster, trying to get as far away from the heat as possible, when she turned to look ahead she only had half a second to see a debris flying straight at her. She screamed….

 

Margaery sat up in bed, panting. Her heart was beating fast, and she was covered in sweat. The door suddenly opened and a knight hesitantly came in, he looked at her "Your grace?"

 

She forced a smile, "I am fine, Caleb. It was just the dream."

 

Upon hearing that, he bowed and left the room closing the door behind him. Margaery sighed, she's been having the same awful dream almost every night since she woke up a little less than two moons ago that even these knights with her were now accustomed to her screaming in the middle of the night. Just thinking about the dream makes it hard to breathe.

 

She tried to calm herself as she got out of bed and walk to the table where a pitcher of water and a glass were sitting. The water helped, her breathing is normal and she does not feel very hot anymore. She remained standing near the table, and closed her eyes. As hard as she try, she cannot remember what happened. All she could remember was based on that dream, and waking up in a tavern being tended secretly by lady wives of several Tyrell knights. Apparently, one of her family's sworn knights saw her unconscious and took her to safety.

 

When she woke up and learned this, the first thing she did was asked for all the Tyrell knights who have knowledge that she was alive. For with all her confusion of what happened, one thing's for sure, Cersei wanted her dead, and she thought she succeeded too if the secrecy of tending to her was to be considered. There were thirteen knights, and upon speaking with them she learned that they have not informed anyone, except the five wives who took care of her, that she was alive. Not even her grandmother. She asked them to not do so, and let her be the one to decide when to inform the queen of thorns.

 

When she was strong enough to travel, she asked these thirteen knights--who decided to sworn their sword and shield to her--to travel with her to the North. She knew that the longer she stayed in King's Landing the bigger the possibility of Cersei finding out about her. _The walls have ears_. She thought about where to go though. She could go back to the Reach, it would be a short trip they just have to take the rose road and she will be safe upon crossing the border. But then again, Cersei is mad so no one is truly safe _. Unless she thinks you're dead._ Also, the Tyrells have played safe long enough, she needed to make a stand. She'll make Cersei pay for what she did to her father and Loras. So they travelled the King's Road as inconspicuous as possible.

 

But that is all it is. She doesn't know how she got out of the Sept, she doesn't know if someone helped her, she doesn't know where Loras is or if he even got out. _My brother might be dead!_ And although she has come to terms with it, not knowing and not remembering still frustrated her. But she handles it better now as opposed to the first few weeks after she woke up, when the frustration brought by not remembering drove her to tears.

 

She took another sip and looked out of the window. She misjudged the time, it was probably around four in the morning when she woke up from that dream. It is almost morning and she could now see the snow-covered ground. She shivered involuntarily, the heat is definitely gone now, and she was cold. _As I should._ She smirked, she was in the North now, waiting for the responses to the ravens she sent yesterday.

 

xxxxxx

 

Later that morning, when Margaery, her knights, and a couple of handmaidens had donned their usual garb for the day--the knights in their doublet with their fur cloaks without Tyrell sigil, and her and her handmaidens in their northern dresses and fur cloaks--one of the knights came to her with a roll of parchment and handed it to her. "Thank you, Rowe."

 

She unrolled it, and then smiled upon reading the message. She turned to her knights and handmaidens, "Get everything ready. The time for waiting is done, we will continue traveling to Winterfell." She then called to one of the knights who approached her at once, "Yes, your grace?"

 

"How long before we reach Winterfell? I assume we are close?"

 

"Yes, your grace. Based on the information we gather, we should arrive in Winterfell within five days."

 

"Thank you," she smiled, "And Mikhail?"

 

"Yes, your grace?"

 

"Tell everyone to start calling me _my lady_ instead of _your grace,_ " he looked puzzled so she continued, "Best get used to it now before we reach Winterfell. They got their own King in the North." With that he bowed and proceed to do what she asked.

 

Margaery looked down on the piece of paper and read what was written in it once more, a smile on her face.

 

_'The North remembers what you did for one of ours. The gates will be open upon the roses' arrival for the King awaits you. Do make haste, winter is here.'_

 

xxxxx

 

They were almost to Winterfell when another raven arrived for her. This time it was from her grandmother.

 

_'Thorn protects the rose. Ten thousand. I'll hope to see you soon.'_

 

Margaery felt like she was going to cry, but she fought it. She will be strong. She will see her grandmother soon enough. For now she needed to play the game, yet again. She straightened herself and look ahead. There it is, Winterfell, covered in snow. It wasn't as huge or as colourful as Highgarden, but it looks majestic in its own way. "Ride faster!" She yelled.

 

In no time they were at the gates and the guards are asking for their identity. Caleb was about to answer, but then Margaery cut him, "The King awaits our arrival. Please inform his grace, the roses have arrived." The guard had a look of recognition on his face as he called upon another guard who ushered them abruptly inside the castle and into a room.

 

"His grace will see you soon sers, my lady. Please do not leave the room until he arrives." He then bowed and exited the room.

 

Margaery doesn't know what to think of it. Is this a Northern tradition of some sort? Well, it looks like she wasn't the only one confused. Her companions wear confused expressions as well which was slowly turning into panicked ones. It is up to her to assure them somehow, after all they are not in any danger are they?

 

The Starks are honorable, after all. And Maester Elwyn would not have given the letter if the ruler isn't a Stark.  She sat down on the nearest chair and called upon everyone in the room, "Please calm down. The Starks will not do any harm to us, I assure you." That seemed to work, they visibly relaxed.

 

The door opened then, and in came a bearded young man with solemn gray eyes. Her knights tensed. Margaery stand up, "Your grace?" She asked, so as to not seem rude if this happens to be the King and also to warn off her soldiers.

 

He smiled, "Aye, my lady. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting." Margaery looked back at her knights and handmaidens, and at once everyone was on their knees.

 

The king suddenly signaled for them to stand up, "Please, sers, my ladies." And everyone stood up. He motioned for her to sit down and she did so.

 

"We have prepared accommodations for you and your party, my lady. But I just need to talk to you before sending you to rest. I apologize, but it is of utmost important."

 

A Stark soldier was waiting at the door, so she asked her men and handmaidens to follow him.

 

When only the two of them were left in the room, Margaery returned her focus on the king.

 

She frowned, but then nodded at the king, "What it is you need to talk to me about, your grace?"

 

"My lady, I understand that wars will soon be raging in the South. And though the North declares its independence, I doubt Queen Cersei recognizes it."

 

"No, your grace, I don't think Cersei will recognize it. She wanted all of the seven kingdoms."

 

"Which means there is a possibility that she will wage war on the North."

 

Margaery thought about it, can Cersei afford to bring war to the North? "Your grace, it is a possibility. However, she will not succeed unless she brought the Lannister soldiers. But even then, it would be hard for them to conquer the northern kingdom."

 

"The possibility is enough to worry me, my lady."

 

"Your grace, certainly, your bannermen will follow you instead of Cersei?"

 

"Aye, my lady. But I will not be sure with Petyr Baelish."

 

Now that shocked Margaery, "Baelish? What did Littlefinger have to do with it?" And then as an afterthought she added, "Your grace."

 

"He is in the castle, and is the regent for Lord Robin Arryn of the Vale. Which means…"

 

"Which means that the Knights of the Vale is under his command!" She finally caught on.

 

"Yes, my lady."

 

She looked at the king like he's crazy, "What is Petyr Baelish doing in your castle, your grace?"

 

"Well, when the Bol--" he was cut off with the door opening and closing.

 

They both look up, and there standing looking at her is Sansa. One second she was about to smile at her friend, the next she was being hugged tightly by said friend. She hugged back as tightly. For so long, she thought Sansa was dead. And those things she heard on the way to Winterfell about what happened to her friend were all awful that she decided to stop listening. But now having her friend in front of her made her feel better. And she hadn't felt this way since she left Highgarden.

 

Sansa moved away, but didn't totally let go of her, "Margaery! I thought you were dead! Until I got that letter…I knew it was you. It has to be you." Sansa was smiling but there were tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

 

Margaery let out a chuckle, "And for a long time I thought you were dead as well, your grace," she noticed Sansa grimace at the title, "but here we are."

 

Sansa looked at her intensely then smiled, before answering firmly. "Yes, here we are," and then she frowned a bit, "And please, call me Sansa. We are friends, after all." They both share a laugh at that. Sansa then looked at her brother.

 

"So you've met my brother then?"

 

"Sansa…" the king sounded like he was whining.

 

"Jon…" Sansa started, which Margaery decided to cut off.

 

"Yes, Sansa, I've met his grace." She noticed Jon also grimaced at his title. She just smiled.

 

"Alright, then. I'm sorry I arrived late. So what were you talking about prior to my interruption?" Sansa asked.

 

"Baelish," Jon said, as Margaery answered, "Why is Petyr in Winterfell…"

 

"Baelish, huh?" Sansa scoffed.

 

Margaery smiled, "His grace was just telling me why Littlefinger is here."

 

Jon's face looked a bit brighter and then he smiled, "My lady, I think my sister would be the best person to explain to you since she was the one who invited him here."

 

I frowned, "Sansa…"

 

"Yes, Margaery…?"

 

"Why in the seven hells did you invite Littlefinger in your home? You do know he is not to be trusted, yes?" Margaery couldn't believe Sansa did it. Her friend couldn't have stayed as naïve as she was in King's Landing. She must've learned something.

 

Sansa smiled deviously though, something Margaery haven't seen on her friend's face before, "Well, Margaery…."

 

After Sansa was done telling her about everything that happened, Margaery smiled brightly. _So my little wolf have learned how to play the game after all, and very well too._

 

Sansa then looked her, "So what say you, Margaery? Do you think you can help us?"

 

"You trust me this much, Sansa? Why?"

 

"My reasons remain with me alone," Sansa said, and then stubbornly, "Was I wrong to put my trust in you, Margaery?"

 

Jon smiled fondly at Sansa's stubbornness. Margaery shake her head and smiled, "Ten thousand Tyrell knights are on their way to Winterfell," she took Sansa's hand and squeeze them, "They are at your disposal, Sansa."

 

Sansa looked shock for a second, and then she squeezed Margaery's hands as well and smiled sincerely at her, "Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go! I hope you enjoyed it. XD


	5. Arya II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking too long to update guys! Been busy in the law office with case briefs and corporation case summaries (They are tedious!). Anyway, here's an Arya chapter! Also, I'm already editing the next chapter so you need not wait for too long. I'll post it probably a couple of days from now.
> 
> Thank you for the comments and kudos and mostly for reading! xxoo

She is not sure how many days it has been since she last saw any of her siblings. Three? Four? Maybe a week now? It seems like they are busy. She heard the guard who brought her food the other day talking to another guard about Tyrell knights being in Winterfell. _What are Tyrell knights doing so far from the Reach?_ She thought to ask the soldiers directly but changed her mind about it. She was leaning towards Sansa or Jon visiting her again so she could get the information from them, but as it is there had been no visit for quite some time.

 

Not that their visit would be fruitful if it happens today. She feels distressed and in such a foul mood, she didn't think she could handle playing mind games with Sansa. _It's one of those fucking days._ She hates it. She hates that there are these days where she was all out of sorts and her control slacks. It used to happen all the time when she first left Braavos. She would suddenly feel more anxious than usual and then somehow weary for no reason. After a while she'll have those awful flashbacks from when she was in Braavos and some before she left for Braavos. The training, the fights, the bloods, the murders--everything.

 

They come in flashes, sometimes in order but mostly random. But they seem so real that it almost felt like she was back in there experiencing the same things again and again. Every hit during the training, all the effects of those poisons, the fear she felt when she first turned blind, the pressure she put on herself to being no one, the intense anger and need for revenge, the enjoyment she felt on every stab she landed on Meryn Trant, and the hollow feeling after every gift she served the many-faced god.

 

But the thing that scares her the most, more than she let on, is that every time this happens she feels less Arya and so much more no one. The flashbacks would include those same damn scenarios where she was ask "Who are you?" and where she would respond with "No one" again and again in between different flashbacks.  Scenes when she was younger before they left for King's Landing, times when she was with Nymeria, at Winterfell laughing with her siblings, Sansa screaming at the Sept during their father's beheading, and sometimes the Red Wedding. All these and she feels nothing.

 

She's not sure how long the flashbacks last for mostly she was just glad they stopped, but she reckon they used to last for hours because she would be so exhausted after each one. The _after_ was always the hardest. She'll have to remind herself again who she is. The house of black and white somehow ruined her. _I was never truly no one, but I may never absolutely be Arya Stark anymore as well._

 

The effect of the flashbacks lasts for days, sometimes it would even take weeks to fully be out of her mind. When it happened the first few times, she would stay in one place for a few days until she have her focus again. Mostly she sleeps so she didn't have to interact with anyone. That or she might start a fight because the need to vent her frustration was so overwhelming and she just needs to hurt someone. But of course, she couldn't risk losing her temper on the road and carelessly kill someone who pisses her off.

 

But it had been a couple of months since she last have these flashbacks and she thought being back at Winterfell would eradicate it completely. She was wrong, she had one the other day and she had another one earlier. She's been trying to just sleep off the effects but it's not working as well. That voice asking who she is kept reverberating in her mind and she couldn't sleep. She just wish all these would pass before one of her siblings remember her and decide to check on their prisoner. The guards bringing food she could handle, it's not like they talk to her after all. But Jon, and definitely Sansa, they would want to talk. And talking is not something she could handle at the moment.

 

xxx

 

She didn't remember getting out of her cell, but this is definitely not her cell. She could feel the winter wind on her skin so she knew she was not confined somewhere in the castle. It was dark though and her eyes needed to adjust so she could recognize where she is. She looked around her and realized that she was a bit far from the castle. She must be going to the godswood, this was the path she used to take when they were younger. Had she totally lost control of her mind for a while? She has to go back and make sure nobody was aware that she somehow escaped her cell. _What idea had my stupid mind concocted? This isn't part of the plan!_

 

She was about to turn around to head back to the castle when she heard footsteps. _Someone's coming._ She listened more carefully where the footsteps are coming from but she couldn't focus. She couldn't just stand there though, she decided to jog as silently as she could back to the castle. She checked behind her first though, _I need to make sure that I will not be seen by any--_

 

Her thoughts stopped as she bumped straight into something and fall on her arse. She must have been more exhausted than she thought if she easily lost her balance. She started to look up to see what she bumped into but then caught sight of the black winter boots. _Damn it! It's a someone._ She started to stand up but kept her head down. It is dark and it seems the person still has not recognized her as the prisoner, she could still make a run for it to the godswood. She's hoping this soldier is from the Vale or one of the Tyrell knights, if so then they wouldn't be very familiar with the old gods and the godswood will make them very uncomfortable and they would not be able to search for her very well.

 

The soldier isn’t doing anything though, Arya thinks he might be disoriented for some reasons. _Better chance for me then._ With that in mind, she took a few steps backs and started to run the path to the godswood. That seemed to shocked the man into action because she can hear him running after her now. She tried to run as fast as she could but those flashbacks appears to have drained all her energy and she definitely felt very tired. But she could see the weirwood tree now, she's so close and there would be bushes around the clearing to hide into.

 

 _Just a bit more._ As soon as those thoughts entered her mind she felt a hand grabbed at her shoulder and got a hold of her cloak. "Stop running!" She froze. _Jon! He sounded like Jon. Oh, by the gods please don't…_

 

"Jon?" Arya closed her eyes, because damn it all to the seven hells, but she knew that other voice too.

 

"Sansa?" Jon just confirmed it. _Fuck.my.life._ She was too focused on the white trunk of the tree and running away _from Jon_ that she didn't notice someone was there. There was no running now.

 

"What are you doing here?" Sansa asked.

 

She felt Jon nudged her so they would walk towards Sansa where she was standing in front of the weirwood. She still kept her head down though, hopefully they wouldn't recognize her yet until she could think of a plan. But her mind is definitely failing her right now, and the temper that she's having a hard time to control is starting to flare. _I have to calm down._

 

"I should be asking you that. It's already dark Sansa, it's not safe."

 

"I know! I don't even know what I'm doing here. I don't remember coming here. Last thing I remember I was in bed and was really sleepy." That caught Arya's attention. Just like her Sansa didn't remember how she came to be here. She felt Jon's hold on her cloak relaxed before she heard him sigh.

 

"Neither do I."

 

"Strange," Sansa whispered, and then, "Who is that?"

 

Arya could tell that Jon was about to answer Sansa but then they were interrupted by someone walking to towards them from the other side of the clearing. The person looked familiar but she couldn't place where she'd seen him. She could feel the tension coming from both Sansa and Jon though, and as exhausted as she felt she get ready to fight.

 

The man kept walking towards them, but the three of them kept silent. Sansa and Jon because they appear to be shocked, her because she was trying to focus. He stopped just a few feet from them. It was Sansa though who broke the silence with her trembling voice.

 

"Bran?" _Bran? It couldn't be._

 

The man--Bran according to Sansa--smiled and inclined his head and then he speak, "I'm glad we are all here. It is nice to see you all again."

 

Arya felt Jon's hand let go of her cloak. She took a couple of steps back, she needs a bit of space. This couldn't be happening. Bran is dead, burned. And even when he is not, they said he would never be able to walk again. This isn't him. Maybe this isn't even real. It's probably just her mind flashing things again.

 

"Brother? H-How? Who…where have you been?" Jon stepped closer to Bran, and then Sansa as well. And then the three of them were hugging. Arya was just watching them. She took another step back, and then she saw Bran looked at her and then let go of Jon and Sansa who are both still looking at Bran in disbelief.

 

"I brought you here just to let you know that I am alright. I am alive. I don't know when I will be able to go back to Winterfell, but you can always reach me through the weirwood."

 

What is this man saying? Arya can't make sense of anything she just wanted all of it to stop.

 

Sansa shrugged, "What are you saying, brother? You're already here. Home. Aren't you staying?"

 

He--Bran--smiled sadly, "I can't stay. This is just a dream. I've been trying to reach out to all of you and I have not succeeded until now. I need to tell you something imp--"

 

"A dream? Bran, stop japing." Jon cut Bran. But then Bran looked them intensely, and Arya couldn't help but take him seriously. She thinks maybe Jon and Sansa felt the same way for they stopped and waited for Bran to continue what he has to stay.

 

"It's not a jape, Jon. I came to let you know I'm alive but also to tell you something of significance. Jon, it is important that you meet with Daenerys Targaryen," he started and then turned to Sansa, "Sister, be cautious with you decisions and think on your moves twice as much." Arya noticed Sansa nod faintly, and then Bran was looking directly at her.

 

She felt a shiver run through her then he spoke, "And Arya," She felt more than saw Sansa and Jon looking at her, "be careful, sister. Be very careful with your mind."

 

It all happened so fast, Jon was making his way to her with open arms but she dodge him. She kept shaking her head and she was losing her focus on everything now. _How could he have known._ Then Sansa was holding her, looking into her eyes, "Arya! This means you're alive? Where are you? Please come home." Sansa's eyes which is so much like their mother's are filled with tears and are pleading. "I'm so sorry, please come home."

 

Arya looked at Bran and saw him nodding his head, but then those voices she'd been  hearing the past few days are louder now. "Who are you?" "I'm no one." _This isn't real. This isn’t real._ She felt Jon hold her right hand, and she couldn't take this anymore, she swung her hand as hard as she could so Jon would let go of her. It worked. She pushed away from Sansa, run and jumped straight into the freezing lake.

 

xxx

 

Arya woke up with a start. That dream felt so real she had to check if her clothes are actually wet. She shivered just thinking of how cold the water in the lake was. Still though, the dream couldn't have been real.

 

She sat up in bed and realized that it was already mid-morning. _I was able to sleep for several hours, then._ She still felt exhausted though and her mood did not improved at all. If any it was worse. She was more disoriented than usual and the control on her temper is totally gone now. She needed to vent.

 

She stayed sat looking at the wall of her cell. That dream was stupid, Bran is dead. And Jon and Sansa would never accept her if they knew how many people she's killed. No, they would despise her. Her mind was just playing tricks on her. Making her hope for things that would never be. She laughed humorlessly, _I'm Arya, but maybe not much of a Stark anymore._ Then that fucking voice is louder than ever. _Who are you? No one._

 

Suddenly her cell door opened. She looked up and there was Sansa looking stern. _I've no fucking time for this!_ She look back at Sansa passively, and waited to hear what she come down to her cell for. She didn't have to wait long.

 

"Tell me about where you saw my sister. Tell me everything about it."

 

 _She's no one._ "I'm not feeling well, today. Give me a few days."

 

Sansa walked closer to her, and then a guard came in, probably to protect Sansa from her, "No. You tell me now."

 

Arya just shrugged then focused on the guard, Sansa noticed as well, she turned to the guard, "Leave us."

 

"Your grace, the king said--," the guard started. Sansa glared at him, "The king said to let me talk to her. Now I am asking you to leave us alone so I could talk to her." The guard looked like he was going to protest, but then Sansa gave him a look and he left the cell. Sansa closed the door then pulled down the lid on the little window on it.

 

"Now, tell me about my sister." Arya was so out of her element but she still thinks that Sansa is being very careless and stupid right this moment. If she isn't Arya then she could kill her. Reason has definitely left the princess.

 

"There's nothing to tell," she answered monotonously.

 

Sansa looked angry, she leaned down on Arya, "What do you want? Say what you want, I'll give it to you."

 

"Nothing."

 

Sansa closed her fists, she was trying to calm down Arya could tell, but it is not working, "Tell me! Tell me what happened! Is she hurt? Did you hurt her?"

 

Arya stood up but didn't say anything she just look at Sansa. _You thought you want to know, but you don't Sansa. You don't._

 

Sansa is shouting now but Arya couldn't hear her because the flashbacks started again. She'd blind. A hit in the head. A burning in her stomach from a poison. Blood in her hands. No one, no one, no one. _Stop! Just stop! Please stop._ Then she looks at her--familiar face, red hair, and she's saying something. She tried to focus on what she was saying.

 

This girl grabbed her shoulders and shake her, "Talk! Talk, goddamnit!" She felt her hold on her temper completely slacked. She needed to unleash her frustration, she was about to hit her but then she saw her eyes. They were pleading and then she heard her, "Please tell me. I need to know. I need her to come home."

 

She grabbed her instead, pushed her roughly against the wall and kissed her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go guys, it was short but I hope you liked it. I had to cut it because the continuation of the last scene would be in Sansa's POV. We gotta know what she's thinking, yeah?


	6. SANSA III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you are guys, the Sansa chapter! (: Sorry it took a day later than promised.  
> I wanna say thank you for reading, and all those comments...I appreciate all of them. Just keep 'em coming babes. xxoo  
> P.S. I saw several typos. Sorry in advance guys. I'll try to fix them next time.

Sansa sat up in bed panting, and despite winter having already arrived, she was covered in sweat and felt uncomfortably hot. She kicked the fur blanket so she could move out of the bed and lit the candle sitting on her bedside table. It wasn't too dark anymore, in fact she could already make out the silhouettes of the soldiers guarding Winterfell from her window, but the light from the candle serves as somewhat of a comfort. And after that strange dream she just had, she needed that.

She moved closer to the open window and did not even feel the bite of the winter wind blowing as her eyes caught the red leaves of the weirwood tree from the distance. That was where the dream happened. It almost felt real, she wish it was real. She wish there was truth in there somewhere, but Sansa had learned that dreams are just that--dreams--and she shouldn't dwell on them or she'll lose track of reality. And with everything that has been going on, she couldn't have that happen. _Jon needs me._

Still, she couldn’t help but think about it. It was strange in a way because her dreams weren't usually so vivid, and the fact that she could remember every detail perfectly as if it was a memory stuns her. Mostly, when she dreams she would forget some parts when she woke up, and even the parts she could remember were vague in context, unless they were nightmares. And that's only because her nightmares were actually her memories. But this, this isn't a memory, and definitely not a nightmare. Quite the opposite, really.

Sansa scoffed, _Maybe the gods are real after all, and they are punishing me for turning my back on them._ But she turned her back on them only because they turned their backs on her and her family anyway. But for them to give her this dream is just too cruel!

She cursed the gods. _How cruel of you to show me something I crave, make it seem so real and just within my reach, only for it to be a dream!_ She didn't know she was crying until she felt a tear drop on her wrist, and then another, and then another… She tried to wipe them but another falls down every time. She hates crying, she thought she was done with all that. She thought she was hard enough that pain wouldn't make her cry anymore.

But seven hells! Bran was so tall, he was just a boy when she last saw him. The maester said he would never be able to climb again or walk or even stand. But in that dream her brother walked to them and stood taller than her and Jon, and he sounded so wise. Just like how she used to picture him to be once he grew older.

And then there was also Arya. She couldn't believe she didn't notice her at once, but she was confused to find herself in the godswood in the middle of the night. She also thought that when Jon came, her focus was on her big brother and not who he was holding. When she thought back to it, she remembered that Arya kept her head down while Jon and her were talking, and Sansa was sure Jon didn't know it was Arya as well. _But still, how did I not notice? I should've known!_

More tears fell, because unlike how she used to picture how Bran would be when he grew up, Sansa realized that she always thought of Arya as her young hell-raiser of a sister running around Winterfell with a wooden sword or a bow and arrow, the hem of her dress dirty with mud. Before that dream, Arya was ever only her little sister, the way she looked when she last saw her was preserved in Sansa's memory.

Sansa turned her sight on the snow-filled grounds of Winterfell and she could see a ten year old Arya walking from some place she'd been, broadly smiling, he braids were undone and there's a rip on her dress. A sad smile graced Sansa's face. _I guess I never really wanted you to grow up, Arya, so in my mind you never did. Though I know it is impossible, maybe I wished for you to remain the same so I could have another chance. Because no matter what anyone says, you were mine to protect little sister, and I failed._

She remembered when Bran called Arya's name, and she turned her head to where he was looking. There was her sister, taller than she remembered, her hair just below the shoulder, her eyes so much like father's were betraying her shock. Sansa thought she looked so beautiful standing beside the weirwood with snow all around her, she belongs there with her Stark features, she belongs in Winterfell. And even when it was just a dream the gods created to mock her, she didn't think the gods would take their time to change her sister's face to someone else's. _That must be how she looks like now._

Then her sister was running away from Jon, and though she knew Arya would be much stronger than her she grabbed her because she wouldn't let her get away again if she could help it even though in the dream she knew that it was just a dream. And then that overwhelming feeling of wanting to make sure Arya was alright, she made her sister look into her eyes and asked her if she's alive, asked her to come home. When she saw how cold those confused gray eyes, she asked for forgiveness and begged for her to come home.  A few beats and Arya was running away and jumping into the lake.

She ran after her, but Bran stopped her. He kept saying it was just a dream. _Well of course it was just a dream! But even just in the dream couldn’t the gods let her do something she wished she had done before? Couldn’t they let her do something to save her sister?_ She looked at Bran, her eyes pleading, and it seemed as though he understands her perfectly, he let go of her. She jumped in the lake bracing herself for the cold water, but she was disappointed because it was scorching hot, next thing she knew she was sitting up in bed.

Sansa closed her eyes conjuring Arya's image in the godswood. She looks so much like Jon, like their father, and Sansa thought maybe this was how their aunt Lyanna looked like. _With a face like that and a will so strong--if what I heard was true--then it is no wonder a war was waged for her._

When they were much younger, she would often hear older people talked about how her sister was like their aunt in character. They would fondly talk about Lyanna Stark, the she-wolf, they would say, wild and brave. Then their eyes would turn somber and she would hear them whisper '…beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time.' _Not Arya,_ Sansa thought, _she won't be dead before her time._

Sansa sighed, she has to forget about that stupid dream which was only meant to torment her. It did nothing but distract her with the proverbial stabs on her heart every time a scene from the dream flashes in her mind. Bran's face, the hug they shared, that feeling she felt when she thought her siblings are alive, Arya's face, and those gray eyes. She shook her head as she move away from the window. The castle is awake now so she has to as well, she has no time for dreams.

xxx

Sansa sat at the Starks table on the dining hall with Brienne, Jon and Ser Davos weren't there yet, she has time to compose herself a bit more. She saw Margaery making her way to their table followed by two Tyrell knights. She was pleasant with everyone as usual, and even stopped to talk briefly to a few Northern lords. What about, Sansa don't have any idea, but the topic seemed pleasant enough because she could see the lords nodding and smiling.

Sansa's lips turned up a little, of course Margaery would know all the right things to say. She's glad that her friend found her way to Winterfell, she needed her. With Petyr Baelish in Winterfell, doing his best to try and manipulate her and outwit everyone, Sansa needs someone who would think with her and scheme with her. She loves Jon and would do anything for him, but her brother had not a single scheming bone in his body. And it was only a matter of time before Littlefinger realize that he wasn't able to manipulate Sansa, when that happens he would change tactics and manipulate the other lords to turn against her and her brother.

Margaery had learned how to play the game earlier than she does, and had been playing far longer than she was. Sansa had no illusions that she could win against Littlefinger all the time. The only reason she even has the upper hand right now is because she pretends to still be that stupid little girl. But between her and Margaery's cunning, maybe they would be able to outwit him enough to prevent the chaos that he was trying to create.

It had been a little more than a week since Margaery arrived, Jon and Sansa decided to tell their bannermen the same day. At first the Northmen and the lords from the Vale were shocked because everyone thought the southern queen was dead. When Margaery entered the room though they have no choice but to believe, but then they were hesitant to accept the Tyrells until Jon emphasized that Margaery had been a friend to and protected Sansa when she was surrounded by lions in King's Landing and shouldn't the North remember that? Also, the long night is coming and they should get all the help they could.

Right at that moment, Margaery stood and swore fealty to the North, promising that ten thousand Tyrell knights would be marching to Winterfell and as token of goodwill from the Reach for housing their rose, they would bring plenty of carriages filled with food supplies to help feed everyone for the winter. She claimed that Sansa told her about life in Winterfell and how peaceful a united North was, followed by a promise to Jon that when the war against the dead broke, her knights will help protect the North alongside the Northmen because she hoped to be able to experience a peaceful North firsthand. _That the Tyrell Knights' instructions was to heed Sansa's command more than anyone, except Margaery's of course, is not for these lords to know._

If there were any doubts before regarding the Tyrell's allegiance and motive, they have all been vanished after Margaery's piece. Lord Glover said 'Tyrells for the North' in a loud voice, and after a while everyone was shouting the same statement. Margaery looked at Sansa and smiled. _Baelish wouldn't know what hit him._

And now Margaery is walking around Winterfell and conversing with the Northmen as though she belongs there, as though she has always been one of them. Margaery must've felt Sansa's eyes on her for she turned her head toward Sansa and caught her eye. Sansa gave her a tiny smile and lifted an eyebrow, Margaery smirked at her then turned back to the lords she was talking to, Sansa assumed to take her leave. She then continued on her way to seat beside Sansa.

"You seem to have charmed every single lord in the hall," Sansa observed as soon as Margaery sat.

"And isn't that the plan, sweetling?" She respond casually without even looking at Sansa. But she could see the smile playing on Margaery's lips.

"You don't think you could use a little subtlety? Littlefinger sees everything."

"He does. But it wouldn’t really be amiss since this is how I was in King's Landing. He would think everything is normal," she paused to smile at the servant who brought their breakfast on the table, "Now, if I suddenly acted aloof, and more calculating than he thought I was, then he would notice something is wrong."

Sansa thought about it, of course Margaery is right. "I suppose so."

Margaery squeezed her leg and Sansa looked at her, "Don't worry, my dear wolf, I know what I'm doing. I've learned to be more careful now. I won't let Baelish do something that would hurt you or your brother."

"I know that. Still, I couldn't help but worry," Sansa bit her lip, "I trust you though, Margaery. Thank you."

Margaery smiled at her, and then frowned, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, of course."

"You look like you've been crying."

"I'm not. I just haven't slept well."

"Sansa…" Margaery is giving her a stern look. Sansa groaned silently, how could Margaery do it? How could she tell Sansa's lying?

"Right, maybe I am. I'll tell you later when we are somewhere private, I wouldn't want anyone overhearing my weakness."

Margaery looked really concerned so Sansa gave her what she thought was a reassuring smile. Margaery sighed, "I'll hold you to that." And Sansa just nod at her cause she could see Jon and Ser Davos making their way to them.

Jon politely greeted both of them, he nodded at Margaery and kissed Sansa's forehead before sitting next to her. Sansa looked at him, her brother seem to be disgruntled. _What could have happened this early in the morning to agitate him?_ Sansa reached out to touch his shoulder and whispered, "What's wrong, brother?"

"I needed to go to Dragonstone," he whispered back. They are careful not to be overheard by anyone not sitting at their table. Brienne, Ser Davos, and Margaery are to be trusted, apart from that, Sansa wasn't very sure.

She look at Jon, "And you will, Tyrion and I have already corresponded, he would ease queen Daenerys to the idea of being civil with you. He'll write as soon as it is safe."

"I think maybe I have to do it now. The dead are marching to the wall, they are not going to wait."

"Your safety is my priority, Jon," she hisses at him, "You are declared the King in the North! You think you could just go there, request an audience with a Targaryen who has three full-grown dragons and wants to rule the _seven_ kingdoms without putting your life in danger?"

"Tyrion would be there. He is a friend to us, he would help her see reason. I meant no harm."

"She's a Targaryen! We don't know anything about her, except that she is not as mad as her father, and it wasn't really hard to be more sane than a person who wants to set the whole crownlands into flames using wildfires!"

Sansa sensed Margaery shiver beside her. She momentary turned her head to assure she was alright. Margaery looked a bit pale, but she was so good at faking smiles that to anyone who doesn't know her nothing looks out of place. Sansa knew better though, she took Margaery's right hand in her left and squeezed it comfortingly. She then looked back at Jon, without letting go of her friend's hand.

"Brother, what brought this on? We talked about this already, you'll do it but we have to be very careful."

"I feel like we're wasting time, Sansa."

"Wasting time? Jon, I understand that the dead aren't resting, but the wall still stands, we have time."

"For now."

Sansa breathe deeply, "Look. As soon as Tyrion said it is safe, you will go. But I need the word from him first. Because you being killed by the queen isn't exactly ideal for the war to come."

"But you heard what Bran said, I had to go to Dragonstone."

Sansa froze, that couldn't be right. _How could Jon…_ she felt Margaery squeezed her hand to get her attention. "Hey, Sansa. Are you feeling ill? Your hands turned cold."

Sansa grabbed Jon's arms, "We have to talk. Now."

Jon looked alarmed, Sansa started to stand up from the table, then looked at her friend. Margaery started to untangle her hands from Sansa, but then Jon spoke, "You are welcome to join us, my lady." Margaery looked at Sansa as if for assurance, Sansa tugged her hands and proceeded to lead her to Arya's room.

Jon entered the study shortly after her and Margaery sat themselves on Arya's bed. Jon stared at Sansa, confused. "What's wrong, Sansa?"

"You said earlier, Bran told you to go to Dragonstone."

"Aye, I did."

"Jon, for all we know Bran is dead. How could he have told you anything?!"

Sansa is still skeptic about the dream, but if Jon had them too…then maybe, maybe it really happened. She looked at Margaery, she's sporting this frown that always graced her face whenever she'd thinking.

"Bran is your brother who fell down the tower?" Margaery asked, and Jon nodded, "I thought I heard the people said that he was beyond the wall."

"He is," Sansa responded. Margaery lifted her eyebrow to that.

Jon glared at Sansa, "How come you don't know what I was talking about? You were there, too!"

"Where exactly, Jon?"

"In the dream! You were there too, just as confused as I was with not remembering how we got there."

Sansa felt hope bubble inside of her, she stood up, "It was real, then?"

"It was. After you jumped on the lake, Bran told me it is real and unreal at the same time. We're all really there in the dream but we're not really in the godswood."

Margaery stood up as well, "Hold up. Let me get this straight, you shared the same dream?"

"It looks like it," Sansa said.

Margaery sighed, "And in that dream, you know it was a dream?"

"Yes," Jon responded.

Margaery pursed her lips and slowly paced, "And you were in control? You were able to do as you please in the dream? You were able to converse freely?"

"Yes. And it felt real. But I was aware that I shouldn’t have been there because I remember going to bed. It was very strange, Lady Margaery, I know it was a dream but at the same time I know it is somehow real."

Margaery turned her attention to Sansa, "And you, Sansa? Is it the same for you?"

"Yes. When I woke up, I thought it was just a very strange dream. I thought it wasn't real."

Margaery nodded, "And in this dream, your brother told you things to do?"

"It seemed that way, he told me I need to go to Dragonstone." her brother elaborated.

"But he didn't say immediately!" Sansa argued, and Jon sighed after a while, seeming to accept that it would be dangerous to rush.

"He didn't say anything to you Sansa?" The Tyrell asked again.

"He said to think my  moves twice as much. He said something to all three of us, mostly just caution," Sansa stated before she sat back down in the bed. "He assured us he is alive and safe, but he couldn’t come home just yet."

Margaery frowned, "He said something to the _three_ of you? Who else was in the dream?"

"Arya," it was Jon who answered. His voice laced with pain, and Sansa had to close her eyes.

"The she wolf," Margaery let out, and Sansa nodded, a thought forming in her mind.

"Jon," she abruptly said, "If this is real, this means Bran is safe. And Arya…she's…"

"Alive," her brother supplied, "but we don’t know where she is."

Sansa's resolve strengthen, "We will. I think I'll pay a visit to the girl."

"What girl?" Margaery asked.

Jon chuckled, "We have a prisoner, the one who killed the Freys. She's Sansa's favorite person in the castle next to Baelish. She encountered Arya somewhere."

Margaery smiled at Jon's attempt to tease Sansa, then she asked, "But then, wherever they met, for sure Arya had moved another place already?"

Sansa sighed sadly, "Yes. But it's a start. We could go from there and there should be lead as to where my sister must have went after."

"It has merit," Margaery nodded. Jon said something, but Sansa isn't listening anymore. This is her second chance, he guilt about losing her sister in King's Landing had been plaguing her since. Arya is part of their pack, and Sansa will find her. Sansa won't stop until she does. Her priority is making sure her family is safe, and Arya is family.

She realized Margaery and Jon stopped talking and was looking at her. "Are you not well, sister?" Jon asked, "You blanked out again."

Sansa shrugged, "It's nothing. I'll go talk to the girl now."

"Sansa…I don’t think she would say anything."

"I will make her say something," she said this as though it was a threat more than a statement.

"You said so yourself, she wouldn't talk. We have to take our time to know more about her. What change?"

Sansa felt angry, she didn't know to whom exactly, but she snapped, "We're now sure that Arya is alive, that's what changed! She's alive, but we don't know if she is safe. For all we know, she was being tortured right this very moment!"

"How would you go about it then?"

"I'll think of something."

"Don't you think you should be cautious and ponder first about how to approach her?" Margaery asked.

"I've no time for that. Another day of planning could be another day of my sister in danger," Sansa make her way to the door, "I need to know where she met Arya, I need to know everything that happened. If my sister is alive, I'm going to do everything to find her and bring her home. She belongs here." _She's mine to protect._

xxx

She couldn't think of something that could make the girl tell her about Arya, so she was getting more and more desperate and worked up by the second. By the time she reached the girl, she was nothing but a desperate mess that the only idea she has about going about this is to beg the girl. But she knew it wouldn't do. She has to assert her authority somehow.

She tried talking to the girl through that window in her door. She could see that the girl was just sitting on her bed, but even though Sansa had been talking the girl wasn't paying attention. She wouldn’t even look at her! She was just there looking at the wall. _Infuriating!_ She couldn't let that stop her though, so she asked the guard to let her into the cell. He was hesitant at first, but then relented anyway.

"Tell me about where you saw my sister. Tell me everything about it." She said aggressively. The girl was very passive when she responded, "I'm not feeling well, today. Give me a few days."

Sansa knew something was off with the girl today, she noticed how the girl isn't smirking or being playful with her response at all. But she has no time for this, she needs to find Arya, and a few day won't do. Also, it might be better to talk to the girl while she was not being her cocky self, she might be able to coax some information.

With that in mind Sansa walked closer to her, and then a guard came in, probably to her from the girl, "No. You tell me now." The girl just shrugged the Sansa notice her eyes found something behind her. She turned and saw the guard, Sansa wasn't sure if it was the right thing but she felt safe anyway so, "Leave us."

"Your grace, the king said--," the guard started. Sansa glared at him, "The king said to let me talk to her. Now I am asking you to leave us alone so I could talk to her." The guard looked like he was going to protest, but thankfully he left the cell. Sansa closed the door then pulled down the lid on the little window on it.

"Now, tell me about my sister." She stated firmly, as though she was giving a command.

"There's nothing to tell," the girl answered tonelessly.

That angered Sansa. What is this girl playing at? All she wanted to know is where did the girl saw Arya, couldn’t she just tell her that! She just wants to know if her sister was hurt!

"What do you want? Say what you want, I'll give it to you."

"Nothing."

Sansa grip her skirt and closed her fist on them willing herself to calm down, but then she remembered that image Arya in the godswood, and she failed to hold her temper in.

"Tell me! Tell me what happened! Is she hurt? Did you hurt her?"

The girl stood up but didn't say anything she just look at Sansa as though she could read her mind. Sansa doesn't care, she kept asking the girl what she wants in exchange for information. But it was as if the girl couldn't hear her. She's not responding or anything, and this frustrated her. _Or maybe she was trying to ignore me!_

She grabbed the girl's shoulders and shake her, "Talk! Talk, goddamnit!"She was aware of the tears that were falling down her face now. But then, who cares, really? The girl is clever, Sansa knew the girl could sense how desperate she was even before she offered to give her anything. Pride is nothing if it meant they would have her sister back.

She was so desperate that she decided maybe she could plead with the girl. She looked into the girl's eyes, and was shocked at how familiar they were. Gray eyes, cold and confused, those eyes would haunt her from now on she knew, and then she remembered, they were so much like Arya's in that dream. It felt like all anger dissipate, and it was as if she  was willing the girl to understand, she whispered, "Please tell me. I need to know. I need her to come home."

Sansa didn't know what happened, but then she was being pushed against the wall of the cell and she felt cold lips against hers. The push was rough that it made her close her eyes, but the lips were surprisingly soft and gentle. Sansa knew she should feel panicked, but she doesn't, she felt quite safe. She felt cold hands cradle her cheek to angle her head, and just like her lips, they were gentle. She couldn't help but compare this to the roughness she suffered with Ramsey, and everything at this moment is giving her comfort. The hands on her cheeks, the hands on her waist, the body pressed into her, and the lips trying to coax hers open.

Sansa never felt this comfortably warm and safe for a long time, and she gave into it. She opened her mouth so she could kiss her back, and it felt right. Suddenly, Sansa wanted this to last longer, she never wanted to stop feeling this peaceful. It makes her forget her worries, her fears, and her schemes. She decided to stop thinking and just feel, she relaxed and let this play out. Sansa will take what piece of comfort she could get.

Suddenly the hands on her cheeks moved to her hair and she could feel cold fingers run against her scalp before grabbing a fistful of hair. She could feel how strong the grip was, it should have been painful; it was anything but. It was possessive and controlling but still gentle. Sansa couldn't help it, she grabbed the girl's waist and pressed her closer to her body as she deepened the kiss. She never felt the need to be so physically close to someone before, she never craved to want more, until now.

She felt the grip on her hair loosen, and then lips were gone, she opened her eyes to see gray eyes looking directly at her blue ones. They are still very close, she think their lips would brush if one of them talked, but she couldn't read those eyes. Those gray orbs are telling her too much at once, that they tell her nothing at all. She could see shocked there, stubbornness as well, there was puzzled too, and the ever present confusion. But there was no coldness anymore. Instead, just like everything that kiss made her feel, there was warmth there.

"What do you want to know?" The girl asked softly, and Sansa was right, their lips faintly touched.

"Where did you encounter my sister?" She asked just as soft. Sansa doesn’t want to ruin the still lingering peacefulness.

The girl moved her head back a little as she untangled her fingers from Sansa's hair, but her other hand remained gripping Sansa's waist. "In the Riverlands, after I killed Walder Frey."

"Did you talk? Did you fight? How did you come by the sword?"

The girl moved away from Sansa and sat on the cot, and Sansa missed her warmth and closeness and her hands. The girl sighed then looked up at Sansa as though contemplating if she would tell her or not. "We talked, I guess. We fought, but not physical. And she gave me this sword."

Sansa was relieved to hear that. Her sister was at least not hurt when she was last seen. She went and sat on the cot beside the girl, who followed her movement with her eyes. Sansa looked at her, "Will you tell me everything?"

The girl nodded, "I was alone, and she was as well. We met at the forest near Blue Fork by accident, I think. She knew I was the one who killed the Freys. She said I avenged the Red Wedding. I was scared of her, and I think she was scared of me as well. I don't know who was more scared of whom."

Sansa doesn't want to interrupt her, less she stop, but, "Why are you scared of her?"

The girl smirked sadly, "She has so much heart in her, that if she wished she could have been able to kill me."

Sansa felt proud for some reason, this assassin was afraid of her little sister. _Oh, Arya!_ "Tell me more, please."

The girl looked away then speak, "She wondered where I was headed, and during that time, I still really didn't know. We talked more. She painted Winterfell for me, the people, her family. _Your_ family. She knew she has several things to come back to, I realized she has as much to lose. I told her so and that's when we fought. I think she needs to go and be a Stark. She said it was still war, and no Stark is safe yet. The next morning when we're about to part, she argued that if I was so scared to lose people then maybe I should go and protect my family so I wouldn't lose them. I've no one. So she left me _needle_ \--the sword--and asked me to protect hers so she won't lose them before she comes back."

Sansa didn't know how to feel. She could feel tears in her cheeks again. She was looking at the girl, and she could detect no lies. She was telling the truth. _Why didn’t Arya went home with this girl, then?_ "Where did she go? Why didn't she go with you?"

"She didn't say. But she'll be home, she said."

Sansa sighed, "Thank you for telling me." The girl turned to look at her again and nodded. Then she felt a hand on her face and the girl's thumb is brushing away the tears on her cheek. "Your sister told me I would know you at once because your red hair would be the most vibrant one in the North, and your eyes would be the kind of blue like the rivers. And if I ever was blind, she said I could still tell because you'd probably be the most polite and ladylike one."

Sansa let out a tearful laugh, "Did she say that with disdain?"

"No. She said that with a fond smile."

And that was all Sansa didn't know she needed to hear. She reached out and hold the girl's hand. "Thank you. If you're Arya's friend then you shouldn't stay here. I'll have a room prepared for you. I apologize for how you wer--"

"It's alright, your grace. I like it here. In fact, I'd rather stay here for a few more days."

 _What?_ "Are you sure?" The girl just nodded. Sansa looked her in the eyes to assess if she really was just fine in there but she got lost in the gray eyes again, she didn't realized she leaned in until she felt the same soft lips against her own. Then in was gone and the girl was standing up, Sansa stood up as well, and a few seconds later the door opened and a Tyrell knight came in with Margaery. "Margaery? What are you doing here?"

"You were gone for quite a while, I worried." Margaery looked at Sansa, then lifted her eyebrow. Sansa realized she was standing so close to girl.

She stepped back, then looked down to the girl now sitting back on the cot, "Thank you, again. If you need anything, just tell the guards." The girl responded with a nod, but she was looking at Margaery openly, and Sansa was unreasonably irritated by that.

"Let's go Margaery," she said and the stopped because she needs one more thing. The girl looked at her as if asking why. "May I know your name?"

The girl shrugged, "I'm no one." Her tone was so cold that Sansa actually shivered. And when she would usually push this girl to give her a proper answer, she didn't this time. She and Margaery let themselves out of the cell.

They were walking away from the cell door and Sansa noticed that Margaery was distracted, "What is it?" Sansa asked.

"She said she was no one," Margaery said frowning.

"She did. She likes to play mind games."

Margaery sighed then and absentmindedly said, "I think I need to read some Essos history and talk to Maester Elwyn."

Sansa brushed that aside as another one of Margaery's quirks, she always has these random thoughts and ideas, and they continue walking to the courtyard. All the while images of Arya talking about her with a fond smile plague her thoughts. And every now and then, she would remember those lips and those hands and the sense of comfort and warmth and safety would encase her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! (;


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